Page 41 of The Goddesses' Gifts

“Because I can’t protect shit,” I answered and rubbed my fingers over the back of my head. “I’ve failed you enough. If you can’t be stabbed, I don’t have to lose the last person I care about.”

Dourlak’s eyes darted around, as though looking for an eavesdropper or spy.

“It’s ok to say it now,” I sighed and pointed at the sizzling head on the altar. “He doesn’t hear shit anymore.”

“But whoever takes the spirit will,” Dourlak said with a deep frown. “Father, I trust you with such power. There are many here that would if they knew. But there must be more to it if you’re offering it to me.”

“No,” I shook my head. “I’m old. I’m tired. You’re young and have a good head on your shoulders. If there was one thing I could impart on you, I’m glad it was that.”

Dourlak gaped at me.

“I’d still be commander, so you wouldn’t have to take on more than you’re ready for. I’ll step aside when you’re ready, subcommander.” I winced. “Please just don’t make me do it for too long. I want to rest someday.”

“Rest is for the dead,” he replied.

“It’s really not supposed to be, son,” I drawled. “Things are going to be different.”

“All the more reason you should have this power,” he said, emphatically. “You’ll be a target.”

“And you’ll have the ears to ferret out the people that would strike me,” I explained. “You’ll be the one holding the winning hand no matter the outcome, and that’s my only selfish want now. Do you hear me, boy?!” I ended on a shout. My words echoed in the otherwise silent grotto.

“We may have to squash the city forces when they come to try and take the mountain back, but you’ll smash them with the help of the spirit, as Dulanzo has for hundreds of years now. Once they realize we are still able to stand on our own, they will relent. As long as we keep their supplies coming in, it won’t be worth destroying the mountain.”

Dourlak met my eyes and clenched is jaw. “And you trust me to maintain your new order?”

“I trust that you’ll see what’s best for the people here,” I admitted. “There’s no telling if what I’m attempting will even work. But we can’t carry on the way Dulanzo had us. We can’t carry on the way Irnon wants us to. This misery isn’t what we were meant for.” I rested my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You know Lhoris. Saw how he was, what this place did to him when he came back. He’s proof we don’t have to be this way.”

“You’d denounce Irnon?” Dourlak asked with wide eyes.

“I’ll follow the Shattered God instead of paying tribute to her, but I won’t say it publicly. That’s too much for now.”

“I don’t give a shit who you want to follow. The zealots would come knock this mountain down if we denounced Irnon altogether.”

Before I could respond, the stone island beneath our feet trembled, sending tiny ripples across the water. The rock before the altar shifted and undulated like liquid, forcing Dourlek and me to step back to the water’s edge. The swirling liquid shifted and rose into a pillar, gradually forming the head, torso, and finally limbs of a bipedal creature.

It was breathtaking. The creature’s flesh, if that’s what one could call it, was marbled in cool blues and greens with stripes of glistening gold throughout. Its figure was slender and androgenous, and its facial features were perfectly symmetrical … no mortal hand could sculpt something so striking as this creature.

It turned its face to look at me with its marble eyes and when it spoke, it sounded like something between the rush of water and wind whistling through rocky crenelation. “You’ve freed me from the yoke of this mortal’s greed.” It was the same whispering voice that had come to me and beaconed me to the grotto all those months ago. The same voice that howled around the sacred cavern, seething about its imprisonment.

I bowed to the spirit. Dourlak did the same. “As you requested in the bargain.”

The spirit nodded in reply. “I am grateful.” Then it smiled with jagged, saw like teeth. “It didn’t use even a fraction of my power, but the magic it used to do so …” It bared its teeth further in a vicious sneer. “… was painful. Insulting.” Its face smoothed back to something more placid. “I am grateful for your help.”

“I am glad to be of aid,” I said. “Will you now fulfil your part of the bargain, oh mighty spirit of the mountain?”

“No,” it said, the jagged smile returning.

My jaw dropped. Of course it wouldn’t work the way I hoped.

“Your argument was amusing, and it costs me little, very little, to lend both of you my strength,” it said, almost smug.

“Oh,” I gasped in a heavy sigh. My shoulders relaxed and slumped forward. “Yes, thank you. That is generous. We are grateful.”

The mountain spirit lifted its hand and gestured to the water. “Drink of my water, and it shall be done.” Then it melted away, reversing the process and returning to the rough stone of the island.

Dourlak was still gaping at the place the spirit had manifested with wide, nearly terrified eyes. He slowly turned them on me.

I huffed a laugh. “I hope you’re thirsty.”

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